


yesterday, you were here with me

by GalaxyBound



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cussing, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, I'm really sorry, M/M, Multi, this made me cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 18:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyBound/pseuds/GalaxyBound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“You’ll be here – with me – still, tomorrow and the day after that, right?”</i> He couldn’t look back now. It’s not like he’d meant to do it. Not then, not ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	yesterday, you were here with me

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been having awful feels lately, not that it doesn’t happen on a regular basis. Also, this is the first time I’m writing LiLo. Be nice. So, listen to Autumn Leaves by Ed Sheeran, yeah? Sorry.

All it took was one blow.

One blow of something they made a point to assure (but it isn’t enough, assurance is not enough, it _never_ is) weren’t smoke and fog and blur but everything still comes crashing down.

It’s not like that’s what they’d planned. What _he’d_ planned, at least.

“One interview,” Harry said from the inside. He’s not sure if he’s hearing the right things though, because after all, he’s not sure what’s real and what’s not now.

“One interview then we can move on, and we’re through with this,” he continues, standing up from where he’s seated.

He was eavesdropping. He just couldn’t help but do so because they’re probably talktalktalking about him again and it gets him fuckfuckfucking irritated every time.

“Through with what?” He decided to enter, and it wasn’t probably the best time but the urge kept pushpushpushing him. “You guys are tired of me, aren’t you?”

“Liam, we have to –“

“No. You’re not announcing that in public, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here and we’re fighting through this and I’ll stop using it. I promise.” And he leaves. That’s probably a pretty clear gesture to intend that he wanted the conversation to end there.

-

But of course, it doesn’t happen. He doesn’t stop. He _wants_ to, though. But he justjustjust couldn’t.

His hands kept shakeshakeshaking. Looking for something he longs to have, but doesn’t need. And it’s not like anyone would actually ever need _that;_ because honestly, it isn’t even legal anywhere.

“I can do this,” He says to no one in particular, sitting in the bunk with both his legs resting atop the cold floor.

“I can. I can. I can.” He keeps on saying it, not knowing the four were listening through the thin walls of the now crowded tour bus. He says it a little more until he doesn’t, and the _cans_ are replaced with _can’ts._

“I need them,” He stands up, opening the luggage near the only door the small room had. He fished for a small pouch he kept in the very bottom of the luggage, only to find the thing he’d been avoiding for days now. He needed it sososo bad.

He looks at the white powder as if it’s the _only_ reason he’s breathebreathebreathing, and if he’s being honest, right now, it _is._ He opens the pack, inhaling the fragrance only he could seem to smell, and starts putting them in the paper he so instantly landed his hands on, eyes preying on each dropdropdropping residue.

But in the worst of the worst time, the boys enter. _Fuck you all,_ he thinks. And of course, he doesn’t mean it, _still though._ But they don’t say anything, and Louis just hugs Liam because he knows – he knows Liam must be restraining himself from using drugs but he just can’t and what hursthurthurts the most is that it seems to be all he needs.

“I’m – I’m so sorry,” he apologizes in between sobs. He’d broken down when Louis hugged him because no one’s hugged him in a really long time since they found out, and he felt like he wasn’t part of the group anymore, which wasn’t true. Definitely, certainly, clearly _not_ true.

“I can’t – I just can’t stop, I need it, my – my life depends on it. I –“

“It doesn’t, Liam. It doesn’t.” Harry says and Niall nods and Zayn just looks because he couldn’t do anything, one wrong – even right – move and he’ll break down too and that was the lastlastlast thing they needed.

“You have us,” Niall says, and of course he does. He’s _Niall Horan_ , and that’s what he does. Make people feel welcomed, and warm, and he’s all loving and caring and sweet.

Louis rubs Liam’s back in the process, hushing him every now and then. And Louis probably ushered the other three for the door because the next thing he knew, they’re all alone and the doors closed and it made a sound one note higher than the usual door slating and Louis’ looking at him right in the eye.

“I’m sorry,” This got Liam to stop crying, because shouldn’t he be the one saying sorry?

“I’m – _we’re –_ sorry you had to go through all this alone. Sorry we weren’t there with you. We should’ve known Liam.”

“None of this is your fault. I shouldn’t have attempted drug use in the first place. I should’ve known I’ll end up being miserable, and addicted, and I’ll lose you –“

“You’ll never, ever lose me – _us_. I love you so much, don’t you know that?”

And it most definitely hurt. It hurt way more than when he stopped himself from in-taking marijuana, or when he did in-take them knowing the boys wouldn’t like it.

So Liam just nodded. And cried – even harder this time – and there was Louis again, gathering him up in his arms, being all protective, rocking him back and forth, and saying words of affection only the two of them could understand.

It probably lasted for an hour, or so it felt, before Louis stopped and Liam regained his composure. This time, it was him who looked Louis right in the eye. He couldn’t fuckfuckfucking do this anymore so he decides to throw caution to the wind.

“I’m ready.”

-

The drive to the center was probably the longest of his life. And it’s weird, considering that the center is just a 20-minute roll from their flat. He hadn’t actually felt he’d be leaving then. He didn’t feel it in the car ride, didn’t feel it during the final interview, didn’t feel it when he packed, didn’t feel it _at all._

It was when they finally arrived and got off and headed for the door. It was then that he _feltfeltfelt_ he was leaving them behind – leaving _him_ behind.

-

Harry was the first one to hug him. It was very ironic – their group dynamics – because Harry was the youngest, yet he’s the most responsible one _next_ to Liam. And he thinks he’s not the only one who sees that, because sometimes they leave Harry with the responsibility when they’re too tired to even get up and fix what they’d done wrong. The media doesn’t see this though; all they can make off of Harry is a fuckfuckfucking womanizer. Liam frowns, because he contemplates all of this while the young boy’s hugging him, tight and assuring (and for once, assuring is a good thing), and he thinks it’s unfair. Very much so.

Harry lets go after a while, and Zayn scoops him up next. He smelled a mixed scent of faded Gucci perfume (he’d been using this since their first week on The X Factor, and Liam would know because Zayn asked him for help on choosing then, and this was the one he’d picked – Liam, well, he feels special because he had no idea Zayn still used this, and _he’d have_ no idea because it’s been forever since he had physical contact with any of them and just thinking about it made his stomach twist five different kinds of knots), cheap cigarette and that reeking shampoo he uses (Liam doesn’t know where he got it, not planning on knowing either) – he smells like _home._ And he will surely miss it.

Eventually, _unfortunately_ , Zayn leaves, steps aside and gives Niall his time. And Liam doesn’t want to be biased, doesn’t want to have favorites amongst the boys, but he’s sure Niall gives the best hugs. It might just be him, though, but no one cares now. No one would care, because after Niall’s through, it’s Louis’ turn and the once _LouisHarryZaynNiallLiam_ rapport will then be _LouisHarryZaynNiall_ – _just_ LouisHarryZaynNiall. And it’s just not the same without him, that’s what they think and _know_ and _breathe_. It’s never the same when one’s missing. The five of them are like magnets, one positive, another negative, the other positive, yet again a negative, and finally a positive; all attracted to each other every time, that even when they’re apart, something pulls them back together. And Liam thinks that’s probably the only thing he holds onto, that’s probably the only thing he has left. Niall doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t need to.

If he doesn’t understand the silence they’re giving him, he’s not sure if he’ll ever understand other things again. It was what he needed all along, and he wishes he found out a long time ago because he would’ve been _saved_. A hug from the four of them, words of adoration, and to just know they were there. He’d heard one too many screams, and more than five thumpthumpthumping pairs of feet; and he thought he lost it. But he didn’t, because in the middle of the doting cheers, is always a stage where he’ll find the four people he’d shared every moment in the spotlight with, waiting for him; at the back of the always crowded stadium, is the little scruffy tour bus they’ve shared for more months than expected, cold from the emptiness of the walls but hot from the fulfillment of their hearts; and in the darkness he sees every so often the flashes die down, are four faces he knows he’ll always find.

In the middle of it all, lost in the trail of deep thoughts and regretsregretsregrets, Niall gives him a kiss in the temple and lets Louis have the floor. He looks at him, eyes with never ending pool of trickling tears and questions that were never answered – he didn’t even have the gut to _ask_ in the first place, starting with _why in the world would Liam be the one to do that, he’s_ Liam _fucking_ Payne _for God’s sake and if he’s not an angel, then they’re way more than devils._ And he kisses him in the forehead, long and loving, hands in Liam’s wide shoulders. Liam doesn’t even make an attempt to hug him, because he will breakdown. He will breakdown, and grieve, and howl, and _hurt_. And he knows Louis will feel the same. So instead he says, _pleads_ –

“You’ll be here – with me – still, tomorrow and the day after that, right?”

“Tomorrow, the day after that, the next day, and the next, and the next. Forever.”

And maybe now, he has two things to hold onto.


End file.
